I didn’t hear a Bang. I didn’t see the pot Fall. But when I looked from the upstairs bedroom window, I saw shiny red chards of pottery on the patio floor. I really liked that red pot and now it was in pieces.
How did that happen?
There was no wind. I was not aware that a storm had come through during the night. Still the pot had apparently fallen from its perch on the maroon planter, three feet above the concrete. Now it was smashed to bits on the patio.
Encased within the pottery was a plastic inner pot from which roots were dangling. The plant was apparently pot-bound, “longing to break free”!
It doesn’t take a genius to see these tall plants had outgrown their tiny pot: roots bursting through the pot hole.
My solution? Re-pot the plant. Add fertile soil. Use a bigger pot.
And then I made the planter pretty too – with an unbreakable basket
Some of the most memorable lines in Leonard Cohen’s “Dance Me to the End of Love” speak of cracks ~ “Ring the bells that still can ring / Forget your perfect offering / There is a crack, a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in.”
I see at least 3 lessons here:
- Even cracks have a function: they can let the light in.
- You don’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. What’s broken in you can be a metaphor for human aspiration. Your flaw can show effort and growth.
- When you are pot-bound, move into a bigger pot.
My blog friend writer Dorothy Sander recently published a post with a poem “Finding Her Here” exalting our cracked and broken parts. You can find encouragement by reading it here.
Psalm 51:17 “A broken and a contrite heart thou wilt not despise.”
What are your thoughts about the broken pot? Is there an explanation I may be overlooking, either literally or metaphorically?
Have you outgrown the pot you are planted in?
Or, when you outgrew your “pot,” how did you find a bigger one?
Coming next: Are you ready for spring?